Horse of a Different Killer by Laura Morrigan Page B

warning said visitor that the area was under his protection.
    It’s okay. It’s Hugh!
    Moss didn’t care.
    Having met Hugh, and knowing he was my friend, didn’t stop my dog from maintaining the Prime Directive. Which was, basically, to jealously guard whatever he believed was his.
    Males and their territory—what can I say?
    â€œTell him I’ll be two minutes,” Emma said.
    I glanced in at Moss and Voodoo as I passed my room.
    Be nice
, I ordered and continued to the front door.
    I pulled open the door and gaped at the man before me.
    He wore a deep olive button-down dress shirt tucked into a nicely tailored pair of black slacks. I felt my eyebrows shoot to my hairline when I saw the loafers.
    â€œClean up good, don’t I?” Hugh asked.
    â€œI never would’ve guessed,” I said, opening the door and ushering him in.
    â€œAnd just think, all of this could have been yours.”
    He was teasing, of course, so I ignored the comment. It had taken me a while to get my head around the idea that Hugh’s flirtations were his way of showing he cared. I wouldn’t call the way he acted harmless, but he wasn’t the lecherous jerk I’d once believed him to be.
    Moss trotted out of the hall, slowed as he angled toward the entry, then stopped a few feet from us. He stood stock-still—fierce wolf-eyes locked on Hugh.
    Hugh, being a man with a good deal of experience with large predators, froze.
    Moss let out a low growl.
    â€œStop it, Moss.”
    Guard.
He insisted.
    Guard who? From what?
    The answer came a moment later when a blur of black fur the size of a large grapefruit came tumbling into view.
    Voodoo slid over the tile, scrambled to gain purchase, then scampered to Moss. The kitten leapt onto my dog’s hind leg and began to climb him like a lemur scaling a baobab tree.
    Moss’s kitty
,
he declared.
    Oh, good grief. No one wants to take your kitty.
    â€œHey!” Emma emerged from the hallway with a smile bright enough to light the Gator Bowl. It hardly flickered when she noticed Moss, who was stubbornly playing sentinel.
    â€œMove, you beast,” she said, and nudged his flank with her thigh. With a low grumble, he allowed her to push past.
    â€œBrave,” Hugh said, with open admiration. For all the times he’d made suggestive comments or given me a roguish smile, I’d never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at Emma.
    â€œHe can’t hurt me,” my sister said, brushing white fur off the skirt of her dress. “Grace wouldn’t let him.”
    I made a rude noise, but neither Emma nor Hugh seemed to notice. They were both too involved in checking each other out.
    I couldn’t blame them. They made a cosmically good-looking couple.
    â€œYou got with Kendall, right?” my sister asked as she lifted her purse from its spot next to mine on the entry table.
    â€œYep.”
    â€œSee? I knew you could do it.” Emma gave me a hug and murmured against my ear, “Don’t wait up.” She pulled back with a wink, looped her arm through Hugh’s, and sauntered out the door. It closed quietly in my face.
    â€œNo, I didn’t have anything I wanted to tell you,” I said to the closed door, suddenly a little disappointed.
    Moss came to stand at my side and nudged my hand with his muzzle.
    Okay?
    â€œYeah, I’m fine. Just kind of wanted to—”
    Before I could finish my thought, he caught the scent of lingering barn odors wafting in the air around me and became fixated on sniffing.
    â€œI guess that means I need to shower,” I said.
    It was probably too late to call Kai and ask him over for dinner. What would I make, anyway?
    â€œMaybe I could order pizza,” I said to Moss.
    Pizza.
He swished his tail in agreement. Moss always appreciated pizza.
    If I timed it right, I could call for a pizza, text an invite to Kai, and be in and out of the shower before either arrived.